


When I Fall Down (Pick Me Back Up)

by roebling



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Depression, Gen, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roebling/pseuds/roebling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himchan knows his fall can't be anything other than an accident, but it feels somehow like fate meant to throw this obstacle in his path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Fall Down (Pick Me Back Up)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fairly quick written piece that is a reaction to Himchan's injury specifically, and more generally to the boys' growth over the past year. It's a little darker than I had intended, but I've talked a lot about Himchan's character with a friend from tumblr (hi there!) and I really do see him as being a bit grim -- and certainly very prone to over-dramatizing things. I don't want anyone reading this to think that I feel about him the way he thinks about himself in the story. I love Himchan, as mottsy as he can be at times, and I think he does bring a lot to the team. This wasn't beta-read, but I did a few run-throughs myself and hopefully caught the most egregious errors. If you see any more I'd be glad if you can let me know (in a non-patronizing way ;)).

There's a strange noise - a solid crunch like a dry branch snapping. Himchan scrunches his nose. He caught himself on his hands. His palms are going to sting like hell, but at least he isn't going to have an ugly black eye for their comeback.

He can deal with that.

"These sidewalks are deathtraps," he mutters. He swallows, and slowly starts to push himself upright -

He screams, because suddenly the pain is a lot worse. It feels like someone is trying to drive a nail through the palm of his right hand. He'll take the sharp burn of skin grazed on cold asphalt any day. This pain is new and terrible.

He looks up. Yongguk is frowning and Manager Kang has out his cellphone. Junhong is staring at him with big eyes.

"Hyung, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Junhong," he says. He's not a paradigm of manly stoicism like Yongguk, but he can put on a brave face for the dongsaengs.

He bites his lip and tries to get up again.

Like a fist to the gut, the pain knocks all the wind out of him. He sprawls on the icy sidewalk. Jongup and Youngjae are at his side then, helping to his feet, but he can't think straight and there's a weird white-grey haze at the edges of his vision.

"Hyung," someone says, with their hand on his shoulder.

Himchan laughs, because it hurts too much. It hurts so much his eyes are watering. He pants, trying to catch his breath.

"Ah, really," he says. "I'm fine."

They help him into the car, then, even though he remembers through the disorienting pain that they've just arrived for dance practice.

"It's not time to go home yet," he mumbles.

"Are you crazy, hyung?" Daehyun asks.

"Hey," Himchan says. "Watch your mouth, Jung Daehyun." There's no real heat behind his words though. He's mostly concentrating on breathing right now, which seems much harder than it normally does. He blinks. "So where are we going?"

"To the hospital."

*****

It's very quiet.

"You're awake."

"Hmm." Himchan isn't so sure about that. He's really tired. He's gotten used to being tired over the last year, but this is a different kind of tired - it feels like his body has soaked up sleepiness like a sponge.

"How are you feeling?"

He knows that voice - it's Yongguk. "What'r you asking me that for?"

Yongguk doesn't say anything.

Himchan opens his eyes slowly. The walls are beige and there are white curtains hanging up. He's not in the dorm. There's an IV stand with bags of fluid hanging from it next to him. He follows the tubing down, down ... to where it's feeding into his arm?

"Bang, what happened?"

Yongguk laughs quietly. "You don't remember?"

Himchan shakes his head.

"Your hand ..."

Himchan lifts his arm - or tries to. His right hand feels numb and stiff all at once. He uses his other arm to push back the blanket, and he sees the cast.

Shit. He breathes in deep.

"Are they .... Are they going to have to amputate?"

Yongguk bursts into laughter, his eyes narrowing into happy crescents. "Ah, Kim Himchan, you are the best."

Himchan scowls. "I think you're making fun of me," he says. "You can't make fun of the infirm."

Yongguk smiles. "You're going to be fine," he says. "You broke two uh, metacarpals? The bones ... in your hand."

"Well I didn't think I broke the bones in my foot."

Yongguk grins. "Right. Sorry. Anyway, they had to operate, but it's not serious."

"Oh." Himchan feels a little disappointed. Busting up your hand because of a patch of black ice is pretty undignified, as far as injuries go. It sounds like something that should happen to some old grandma.

"Where is everyone?"

"Ah," Yongguk says. "Manager hung just left to take the kids back to the dorm. Junhonggie and Youngjae were falling asleep."

Himchan nods. "Well you should call him. I'm awake now. We can go back too."

Yongguk shakes his head. "Your parents are coming," he says.

"Huh?"

"The company wants you to go to home. You've got to keep the cast on for a few weeks."

Himchan feels a terrible tightness in his stomach. "A few weeks? What about our comeback?"

Yongguk shrugs. "I don't know, but I'm not worried. You're okay, right? That's what matters."

Himchan nods weakly, but he doesn't agree. They're supposed to come back in two weeks. He's worried. He wants to be there - he has to be there - but with a cast on his hand he's going to be useless.

*****

"You look good, hyung," Junhong says.

Himchan frowns. In the two days since he's been discharged he's done nothing but sleep, eat, and watch television. Even though his hand still hurts, he's better rested than he's been in months. Junhong and Jongup have dark circles under their eyes. He knows they aren't resting at all.

"Thanks Junhonggie," he says, sighing. "You guys look tired. How late were you rehearsing last night?"

Jongup makes a thoughtful face. "I think we stayed until about 3."

"No," Junhong says. "Remember, hyung? It was already three when Daehyun spilled his soda, and we were there for a while after that."

"He spilled a soda? In the studio?" Himchan grins. "The choreographer hyung must have been so mad."

Jongup nods. "Yeah, but you know Daehyun. He tried to say it was all choreographer hyung's fault because he was making us work so hard that Daehyun got all sweaty and couldn't get a grip on the can and only one fan wasn't adequate ventilation and ..."

Junhong snickers. "I think hyung let it go just because he didn't want to hear Daehyun talk anymore."

Jongup laughs, and Himchan grins too, but it's not the same. Not being 'in' the inside jokes doesn't feel good at all.

Himchan clears his throat. "I'm thinking maybe I'll come back to the dorm in a few days. Jongup-ah, you'll help me tie my shoes, right?"

"Of course," Jongup says, automatically.

Himchan loves that kid.

"But hyung," Junhong says slowly, blinking. "We've got practice all day this week."

Manager Kang, who's been texting with his girlfriend, looks up. "I think Junhong is right, Himchannie. You should stay here until your cast is off."

Himchan sighs and nods. "I know," he says, "but it's so boring, hyung."

"Oh!" Junhong reaches into his backpack. "We brought you some magazines and stuff."

He dumps a sack of glossy entertainment magazines and snack food on the bed.

"Thanks," Himchan says. "You're the best."

He pats Jongup awkwardly on the shoulder with his injured hand. Jongup smiles.

"Okay," Manager Kang says. "Himchan, I'm sorry, but we've gotta get going."

"Of course," Himchan says. "I understand. I don't mind. I'll just stay here all by myself and ... "

Manager Kang rolls his eyes. "I know it's boring. Just rest a lot or something so your hand gets better quick. We miss you."

The kids nod in agreement.

Himchan waves goodbye as they file downstairs. He flips through one of the magazines and smiles when he sees they got him his favorite chips. It's early afternoon. If his hand weren't hurt - if he were with them - they'd all be setting out for the studio, complaining about having to put in another eight hours of dance practice, but not unhappy about it - not really.

Instead he's here, alone, and it's all his fault. So dumb. He pushes the magazines to the foot of the bed and stares out the window for a long time, until the sky starts to darken to navy and he hears his mom and dad downstairs getting home from work. When his mom comes up to check on him he closes his eyes and lies very still, pretending to be asleep. She puts her hand on his forehead but doesn't say anything. After she goes he stays like that until he falls asleep for real.

*****

It's so strange, waking up and being alone. He's lived in the dorm for not even three years, but it seems longer that that. He's not used to silence any more, not used to having all the time and hot water he could want for his shower, not used to not fighting with Daehyun over the best side dishes at breakfast.

Himchan has never really be very good at being alone. He lies on the couch and watches television, even wearing his glasses - ugly old things with thick black frames he normally wouldn't be caught dead in. Lying there watching daytime dramas with convoluted plots, his thoughts start to get away from him.

The timing, he thinks, is suspicious. It's not like his slip could be anything but an accident, but what if it weren't? What if the universe had intentionally placed that patch of ice in his path to teach him a lesson? He knows that he's lucky to be part of the team. He's said before and he'll say again that if they'd found Daehyun earlier ... well, it doesn't matter, because they didn't. But he knows that if everyone's skills are tallied he'd be last by a long shot. He's worked really, really, really hard not to be a liability, because he loves the guys and he loves the fans and he loves what they do, but he thinks about it, sometimes.

He turns off the television and heads into the kitchen. His mom bought all of his favorite food even though he told her that he was on a diet. She'd pinched his cheek and told him that he was too thin, and that he had to eat a lot if he wanted to heal. There might be some truth to that, but he knows how easily he gains weight. He doesn't want the fans to call him fat again.

He sighs, and tears open a bag of his favorite shrimp crackers.

It's not like it really matters right now, anyway.

*****

"Thanks for coming to see me," Himchan says, without much spirit.

"Of course," Daehyun says.

"We missed you, hyung," Youngjae says.

Himchan snorts. "Please. You didn't even have time to miss me."

Daehyun opens his eyes wide. "Hyung, that's not true. I totally missed you. These crazy people didn't even want to stop for dinner last night. I needed you there to back me up!"

Himchan starts to frown, but turns it into an awkward laugh. "You can't let Yongguk run you into the ground, kids," he says.

Daehyun smirks. "Do you really think I practiced for eight hours without any dinner? I told him I was going to call my mom."

"Oooh, pulling the mom card. You've learned well, Daehyunnie."

"Ah, well really," Daehyun says. "How can we dance if we haven't even had anything to eat? Yongguk hyung is so focused on the comeback I think he might forget to breathe or something. He needs you there to keep his head straight."

Himchan smiles. "I'll be back soon. Maybe even before the first stages."

"Really?" Daehyun asks. "That would be great, because last night we practiced with Youngjae doing your parts and he just sounds so goofy ..."

Himchan feels suddenly like someone has grabbed hold of his heart and is squeezing.

Youngjae, who has been silent, looks up. "Sorry, hyung," he says. He doesn't sound very sorry, but then he wouldn't. Himchan knows Youngjae. If the company tells him to sing Himchan's lines, sing Himchan's lines he will, and no doubt he'll do a good job. "You'll probably be back before we have any of the stages anyway ..."

It's stupid to be mad. It's stupid to be mad at the company. Of course someone has to sing his part if he's not there. It's stupid to be mad at Youngjae. It's not his fault he lost more weight than Himchan did, while complaining a lot less. It's not his fault his dancing has gotten better. It's not his fault that over the past year he's managed to become quietly proficient at _everything_ , without really making a big deal about it.

It's just that all the unsettling things Himchan has been thinking over the past few days have hardened into a cold knot of _what if they finally realize they don't need me?_

" ... sounds like a monkey or something. Seriously, hyung, you have to get better so Youngjae doesn't go out there and embarrass himself."

Youngjae makes a face.

Himchan takes a breath. "Well, I know it must be difficult to try and fill my shoes, but I'm sure Youngjae isn't that bad. Imagine if Jonguppie tried to do it!"

They both laugh, and Himchan grins.

"I'll try my best," Youngjae says, gamely. Sometimes Himchan remembers how young he is - just barely nineteen. "But get better soon, hyung. It's weird without you. It's not the same."

Himchan nods. "I'm going to," he says, and he hopes that soon is soon enough they don't realize that what's missing is nothing much at all.

*****

The doctor's office is quiet and plain. White walls are hung with some traditional artwork. There's a big green plant in the corner. Himchan sits on the table in the examination room, kicking his feet, for a long, long time. His mother wanted to come with him but he's going to be twenty three years old. He doesn't need to be treated like a child.

The doctor is an old man with a bald head and some scraggly salt-and-pepper stubble. He pushes his glasses back up his nose with his thumb.

"It'll have to stay on," he says with no preamble.

Himchan's heart sinks. "It's been two weeks though."

"It was a bad fracture, young man," the doctor says. "You need to let it heal properly, or you'll have problems for the rest of your life. Give it another two weeks, and come back and let me take a look."

Himchan nods, but he feels like kicking something. Two more weeks is too long.

*****

He can't sleep. He lies in his bed and tries to think of what he'll do if he can't be part of B.A.P. He can go back to college. That makes the most sense. The life of a professional janggu player can't be glamorous, but hey, it's better than nothing.

He thinks about the fans. Will they be disappointed? He'd like to think so but he's not so sure. He knows how precarious their love is - through no fault of their own. It's just the way the system works. If Himchan oppa leaves the group, there are five other oppas to choose from, and if none of them suit then there's a dozen dozen other idols out there.

The guys will miss him. He's sure of that ... pretty sure, anyway. They're his brothers. They put up with him and they let him take care of them when he needs to do that. They love him (he tells himself, even if he's not always so sure). He knows that he loves them.

There's no rhythm to these thoughts, no string that leads from one to the next. He's being crazy. He breathes in. _The company isn't going to kick him out._ Exhales. _He's not going to quit._ Inhales. _The fans don't hate him._ Breathes out. _The other members are his best friends, and they don't want him gone._

He knows that, but some darker and less certain part of his mind keeps feeding him doubt. He pulls the blankets up over his face and listens to the clock tick, hoping if he does manage to fall asleep he'll find better dreams waiting.

*****

"You look gross."

Himchan's sister is standing in the doorway.

"Hmm?"

"When was the last time you washed your hair? It's like ... gleaming."

"Hmph," Himchan says, brushing some crumbs off his belly. "My hair is naturally this lustrous."

His sister rolls her eyes. "Don't you think it's a little soon to start wallowing in pity?"  
Himchan shrugs.

"Aren't you going to the taping tomorrow anyway?"

Himchan nods. It's true. He is going with the guys to the Music Bank pre-recording, but he won't be performing. He's going as a spectator. A guest.

"You just have a broken finger," his sister says, dismissive. "Didn't the doctor say the cast can come off next week?"

"Two broken fingers, nuna." He sighs and reaches for the remote.

"You're tougher than this, Himchannie," she says. "Stop being so silly." She frowns at him and heads upstairs.

He's not being silly, he wants to say. He's being paranoid, but he realizes that doesn't actually sound any better.

*****

Showered and dressed, with his hair clean and combed, he feels a little bit more like himself. It's nice, too, not too have to wear all that makeup or their stifling stage costumes. Much more comfortable. When he climbs into the van, the kids are all grinning and happy, and Bang is smiling at him from the front seat. He feels his heart lighten. And if it hurts to stand to the side and watch the five of them do so well without him, then it makes up for it when he steps out on stage during one of the breaks and the fans cheer for him, louder than for any of the others.

They miss him, and they're waiting for him.

He feels better, even though his hand still hurts.

*****

He watches the Music Bank comeback sitting on the couch in his parents' living room. His sister is at the other end of the couch with a face pack on. It reminds him of being a kid and getting special permission to stay up late, except the thrill of it is not the same.

He watches without saying a word, his mouth drawn tight. He's heard the songs so many times at this point he can't even really listen to them. He draws his legs up underneath of him. The fan-chants are really great. He'd noticed them during the filming, but they're even cooler like this.

Youngjae does a good job with his part. Of course.

It's over in five minutes. That's it. His sister claps at the end, as they transition to the next group.

"Oh, they did well," she says.

"Yeah," he says, through his teeth. "You couldn't even tell someone was missing."

She narrows her eyes.

"You look like a snake," he says.

"You look like an idiot," she says, and she throws a pillow at him. "Why are you so dumb?"

"It must run in the family."

She has no more pillows to throw, thankfully.

"Why do you have to say stuff like that? You know they miss you, the fans miss you. You'll be back in a week."

Himchan shrugs. "I know. I didn't mean .... I just meant they did a good job. You couldn't tell it was choreographed for six people. That's all I meant."

She's been his sister his whole life, though. She's not fooled.

"A lot of people love you, Channie. You don't have to worry so much." She sounds annoyed.

Himchan knows she's right. He hopes she is. There's plenty of evidence that she might be.

He just doubts, in spite of it.

*****

"Such sweet boys," his mother says, pleased. "Really, I'm so glad you ended up with such a nice group of boys, honey."

It's Sunday, and he's on the couch again, watching the Inkigayo comeback. The MCs asked about his injury, and Bang said something pretty about fans and well wishes and a fast recovery.

"Ma, you know the scriptwriters come up with all of this stuff." He crosses his arms over his chest in mock annoyance, but really, he's pleased.

"Well it was nice anyway," she says. "And what about all those phone calls? Every single day! The scriptwriters don't make them call you, do they?"

"No," Himchan admits.

"They all have very good manners," his mother continues. "I'm glad you didn't end up with a bunch of hooligans."

"Hooligans, Ma?"

She frowns at him. "I'm sure you know better than I do, Himchan. I'm sure there must be a lot of bullying and hurt feelings. You're all so young - not just you and your boys, but all these kids who want to be singers - and it's so hard and cut-throat."

Himchan thinks. They're still just rookies, and they're not the most social people, so they don't know a lot of other groups ... but sure, he knows what she means. "I guess."

"Well, unless you've been fooling me, it doesn't seem like that at all with you boys. You all care for each other a lot. I can tell." She puts her hand to her chest. "It's a mother's intuition."

*****

"Free!"

"Now, be careful," the doctor says hastily. "Just because the cast is off doesn't mean you're totally healed yet."

The skin that the cast covered is paper white. Himchan flexes his fingers. They feel stiff, but they don't hurt. It’s more like they’re raw. Newborn. "I know. I'll be careful."

He's got to be careful. He can't stand the thought of being sidelined again. Bang's lyrics talk about one shot, but to Himchan, this feels stupidly like a second chance.

*****

It's amazing how loud the crowd is. They've been able to hear them for a while now, ever since they started letting people in.

"They sound kinda angry," Junhong says, his eyes wide.

"Angry? They're excited," Daehyun says. "I'm excited. Aren't you excited, Junhonggie?"

Junhong nods.

"I'm nervous," Jongup says.

"You'll be fine," Youngjae says. Then he laughs. "I'm kinda nervous too, but I don't think I'm ever going to be as nervous as I was before that first showcase."

"That seems like a long time ago," Junhong says.

"Only a year," Yongguk says. "But don't worry, kids. We're all going to do fine."

The stage manager hisses angrily that it's time to get into place. There's something sharp and palpable about everything right now: the sawdust smell of the dark area backstage where they're waiting, the rolling murmur of the fans, the way the collar of his jacket tickles Himchan's neck.

"You're ready, right?" Yongguk whispers.

"Of course," Himchan says, swallowing down his doubts.

"Good," he says, and he takes Himchan's hand and squeezes for a moment, just before the lights go up.


End file.
